Kindergarten
Blues
By
Romanse
Dedicated
to my son Michael, whose first day of Kindergarten
this
year made me blue!
Thank
you CherylR for the wonderful and quick beta job!
Falling.
The yellow leaves burnished with splashes of red and gold
were falling to the ground, away from the strong and slender tree limbs
that had bound them and nurtured them for a season. To the slim woman walking
along the sidewalk, they looked like school children running out to the
playground, revealing in the joy of their long-awaited liberation.
She loved this time of year, the colors of late Summer turning to Fall,
crisp morning air gradually warming during the day, and throngs of children
returning to school. The woman slowed the pace of her early morning walk and
then stopped altogether. She
watched as a young teary-eyed mother tenderly
hugged and kissed her young son before he disappeared into the big yellow school
bus that had lumbered up the street and stopped at the corner.
A
small smile graced Naomi Sandburg’s face as images and memories that she had
long thought faded from her memory with time came again into sharp focus.
In another place and time there had been another little boy who had been
bestowed with tender hugs and kisses good-bye from his mother before he boarded
a bus that had taken him away for the first of many steps towards independence.
Naomi’s eyes closed and she remembered…
On a bright Monday morning the first week in September, a young
red-haired woman, wearing a paisley print peasant top and jeans determinedly led
a little boy, dressed in a white cotton shirt and black shorts, by the hand.
The little boy clutched his “Casper the Friendly
Ghost” lunchbox tightly in one hand. His head of rioting short chestnut
curls that shimmered in the sunlight.
Mother and son walked down the lane lined with two graceful rows of
weeping willows standing like sentries. They continued all the way to where the
edge of the sprawling communal farm met the narrow, dusty rural road. It was a quiet walk, neither woman or child speaking,
yet the tranquil atmosphere did nothing to alleviate the mixture of sorrow and
pride in the young mother’s heart, nor did it quell the anxiety brewing in the
little boy as to what was about to happen.
Mother and child arrived at their destination and waited expectantly.
Naomi Sandburg, single mother to her only child, 5-year old Blair
Sandburg, pushed her long flowing hair back behind her ears and stooped down
eye-level with her son. She had
prepared Blair as best she could, carefully packing his lunch and writing a note
to take with him describing his bus number and drop off location.
Despite her preparations, Naomi’s
nerves were on edge, but her hands were steady as she checked and
re-checked the security of the tag fastened to the front of Blair‘s shirt that
had “Bus 125“ printed on it in
big bold letters. “This is it
Baby,” she said plastered on a wide smile, one that had nothing to do with how
she really felt. “Your first day of school and you look so handsome.
Are you ready?”
“I don’t wanna to go without you mommy,” came the soft reply.
Big, expressive blue eyes that held the very meaning of life to Naomi
gazed at her intently. Once again Naomi found herself one step away from grabbing
the boy by the hand and marching right back to the safety and familiarity of the
counter-culture, commune of enlightenment that had taken the pair in and
embraced them over 18 months ago.
‘I
can do this, I can do this…’ Blair’s
mother clung to her inner mantra and steeled herself to do what she’d always
vowed to do the day her son was born: put Blair first and always do what was
best for him. Right now what was
best for Blair was that she let the big, yellow Santa Barbara County school bus,
bus number 125, come and take her baby 15 miles away to the town’s elementary
school for the first day of school. For the first time in his young life, Blair
would be leaving her side to temporarily become someone else’s responsibility.
Naomi would have to depend on others to see to her only child’s
physical safety, and of equal importance, his creative mind and bright spirit.
Naomi chocked on the very thought. She could still hear the voice of her close friend Babs from the commune when weeks before, she
had put in her two-cent’s worth of opinion
in on the merits of sending Blair off to public school kindergarten.
“He’ll love it Naomi,” Babs enthused in an attempt to support the
inevitable. “They sing songs,
play games and take naps. What’s not to like? Besides, you’ll have a lot more time
for yourself,” she’d added for good measure.
Naomi knew the argument by heart, and eventually she’d come to accept
the idea that it was not only inevitable, but best.
“Blair, honey, you remember when Auntie Babs and I took you to the zoo
this summer and you were really excited to see all those snakes? Though she
shuddered at the memory of the snake exhibit, Naomi smiled encouragingly at
Blair who in turn, looked back at her with big solemn, trusting eyes.
“Yes,” was all Blair replied and waited expectantly.
“Miss Barile, your teacher has a pet snake in her classroom!”
Naomi exclaimed. She was pleased, but only briefly as she watched Blair’s
eyes brighten and the corners of his mouth turn up momentarily, only to dim and
droop once more.
“But you said I couldn’t touch the snakes,” Blair sighed
dejectedly and kicked a stray rock with one foot.
“I said you couldn’t touch those
snakes because they were poisonous. Miss
Barile’s snake isn’t poisonous.”
“You said snakes are icky,” Blair persisted.
Naomi played her ace card, desperate to cheer her little boy.
“Hmm,” she said noncommittally, “but do you remember how much you
liked the big aquarium and all the colorful fish down by the museum?
Blair nodded his head, his expressive blue eyes wide with remembered
wonder, the chestnut curls softly blowing around his head giving him a
pixie-like appearance. “And did I tell you that she also has her very own
aquarium in your classroom and that every day she needs a helper to help her
feed the fish?” Naomi added enthusiastically.
“Really, mommy? I want to feed the fish! Can I?”
Blair responded to the news the way Naomi hoped he would.
She smiled fondly at the site of her little boy as he perked up and began
bouncing on his toes and craning his neck in hopes of catching a glimpse of the
school bus.
Less than five minutes later Blair’s keen eyes spotted the bus and he
began jumping up and down waiving his small arms. “Mommy I see it, I see it!” he shouted in a most animated
manner. Meanwhile, Naomi smiled,
but waged a silent war with her conflicting emotions.
She was relieved that her only child seemed more at ease with the idea of
boarding the bus and going to school, but at the same time she half-wished that
Blair was wrong and that the bus that they were waiting for would never
arrive. But all too soon the school bus did come.
The little yellow blob that appeared at the end of the road got closer
and bigger until it seemingly morphed into a big school bus before rumbling to a
slow stop right in front of Blair and Naomi.
Naomi looked at the row of little fingers and noses pressed
up against the glass windows of the bus and thought, ‘This
is it.’ Her heart was
in her throat the moment the accordion door folded open to reveal the kindly
smiling face of the bus driver.
Blair excitedly surged forward and would have leaped onto the bus except
for Naomi quickly grabbing him in up in a bear hug.
Blair lovingly returned the hug, his little arms stretching around his
mother and holding on, but he balked at having both cheeks gently kissed.
“Mommy!” Blair whined, his face slightly reddening with
embarrassment.
“Sorry Baby,” Naomi apologized sheepishly before releasing him. Her
arms already ached from the feel of the void suddenly created.
She watched with a sense of pride and joy, as Blair stepped up to board
the bus without hesitation. Naomi
released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, as she watched
his small legs successfully negotiate the wide steps up into the bus before he
found an open seat by the window facing her.
Blair’s little fingers and nose had no sooner joined the sea of other
fingers and noses pressed up against the window when with a wave, the driver put
the bus in gear and drove off in a noisy cloud of dust and exhaust.
Naomi’s eyes locked with a set of dark blue orbs for as long as they
remained in sight. Her smile and wave good-bye were given to one and only one
being. At that moment in time,
nothing, and nobody else existed. It
was as if there had never been any child in the world before Blair nor would
there be after him. That big yellow
school bus driving off with Blair contained the very best and purest part of
Naomi’s heart as well as an enormous part of her hopes and dreams.
Naomi Sandburg remained rooted to the spot, still smiling.
Then she turned to make the trek back to the commune along the tree-lined
dirt road. The weeping willows that
lined the road stood like silent, knowing sentries, patiently waiting on the
young mother’s reaction. Suddenly
the stalwart smile crumbled, the tears flowed down, and like the willows,
Naomi wept.
As Naomi began her solitary walk back to the commune, the only thing
that was on her mind was at 3:30PM, Blair would be walking hand in hand with her
back to the commune.
******
It was early afternoon and naptime in Miss Barile’s kindergarten
classroom. The young teacher was
enjoying a moment of blessed calm while sitting at her desk.
This was a respite of sorts from the fast-moving, sometimes chaotic
events of this first day of the school year.
She had expertly dealt with a handful of anxious kindergarteners, made
fearful and miserable from their first-time forced separation from their
respective mothers. The teacher had
effectively comforted the wailing children until the crying ceased altogether. At recess, the playground had demanded its share of
skinned-knee sacrifices, the first of many offerings for the year. Miss Barile
had carefully cleaned the skinned knees and gently put band-aides in place.
Then there were the dozen or so odd zippers and buttons that were always
a struggle to zip up or fasten after potty breaks.
Now her little charges were lying quietly on mats in various states of
sweet repose. A few little thumbs
made their way with unerring accuracy into mouths whose owner’s were already
fast asleep. Some children were positioned on their stomachs, some were curled
up into small balls. All were
asleep. All except for one unusual
boy who was smaller than the rest. The
little boy with the riot of chestnut curls surrounding his head like a halo and
the big, bright, mischievous eyes was wide awake helping her sort the crayons,
all the while keeping up a steady stream of low chatter. This was Blair Sandburg, a bright, inquisitive rather
hyper-active little boy. She had
quickly and easily learned his name because it was a name she had reason to call
and call often that day.
Miss Barilee smiled softly as she remembered how while on the playground
earlier, the manila folder she had in her hand accidentally dropped, much to her
dismay, spilling the various papers up and out as a small gust of wind blew in.
Some of the children continued playing, some simply stood still gawking
at the spectacle, and still one notable group of older boys started laughing
hysterically. Blair however
immediately took off running, determined to chorale the blowing papers on behalf
of Miss Barile. The small boy ran
tirelessly back and forth, collecting and returning papers a few at a time to
his grateful teacher. Finally,
Blair had captured the last one and run back to Miss Barile’s side to hand it
to her, exhausted and out of breath. Miss
Barile had beamed warmly at him, thanking him sincerely.
“That’s ok, Miss Barile,” Blair
had shyly replied, chest heaving from exertion and his wild curls sticking this
way and that. He had already
started turning to go back to play when he stopped and turned back around again.
Looking up at her and with a grin on his face and blue eyes sparkling, Blair had
resolutely added, “Next time, you’re
on your own!” Miss
Barile laughed heartily at that, never noticing that Blair’s bus tag number
which Naomi had been lovingly pinned to the Blair’s shirt that morning had
completely torn off and had blown far out of sight and mind underneath the
merry-go-round.
All too soon naptime was over and Miss Barile woke up the children and
gathered them around for “circle time” activities before gearing up for the
end of the school day. All in all the day had gone very well for the class, and
particularly for one Blair Sandburg. Blair
had only begun to quench his natural, ingrained thirst for knowledge and in Miss
Barile, he had found a teacher who was genuinely interested in him and could
firmly but with infinite patience, handle such a highly inquisitive, unusually
chatty little boy.
Blair was happy. He had
been allowed to hold Miss Barile’s hamster and to carefully touch the snake.
He had played games, learned new songs and had even read aloud from a
book. But the best part of all, he knew he was going home soon to his mother.
He was beside himself with excitement and he could hardly wait to tell
his mother all about his day.
When the bell rang, classroom door after classroom door burst open
pouring out hoards of liberated children all heading out towards their buses.
The throngs of excited, bigger boys and girls wearing brightly colored clothes
filling the halls formed a living kaleidoscope of color and noise.
Tired and harried staff members were trying to keep order and call out
bus numbers for the kindergarteners who were trying to line up single-file along
side the wall. Gradually, the
line of kindergarteners, including Blair, began to move outside and down to the
bus ramp where the noise of several dozen idling bus engines ratcheted up the noise
level. It was difficult for anyone
to hear over the din, and quickly the noise and the chaos of mass numbers of
moving bodies began to overwhelm Blair, making his heart beat faster as his
anxiety level rose sharply. After
having adjusted well to the
security of Miss Barile’s classroom, Blair was a little frightened at the
sudden change of environment and the uncertainty of where he was going.
Suddenly, a large group of 5th grade boys thoughtlessly cut
through the line directly in front of Blair, temporarily displacing
him from his spot in the line. Blair
stood on his toes and craned his neck frantically to catch a glimpse of the last
child in line, a boy named Mathew who was also on his bus.
When Blair didn’t see him, he stood alone, lost and confused.
A young teacher’s aide named Theresa was busy shepherding children
onto the waiting buses when out of the corner of her eye, she spied Blair
standing unattended, clearly lost and by the look on his face, on the verge of
panicking. Theresa immediately
headed over to his side to assist him. “Hi!
Where is your tag, young man?” Theresa asked in her most friendliest,
take-charge voice.
Blair looked down at his shirt and gasped in dismay when he saw that the
identifying bus tag was missing. He
racked his brains to try and remember what number was on the tag, but the fear
and shock of finding his tag missing made the correct answer elusive for the
confused child.
“I don’t know,” Blair answered in a voice that quavered with dread
and uncertainty.
“Can you remember the bus number?” she gently queried.
Blair’s face scrunched up in frustration as a tear leaked out from one
eye. Then he looked up suddenly.
“I think….I think it has a one,
two and five,” he said in a soft voice.
“One, two, five - that’s
good!” Theresa replied enthusiastically.
The kindly teacher’s aide took Blair by the hand and headed off in the
direction of bus 125, determined to help the kindergartener find his bus ride
home. But Fate is often cruel and
capricious. The same Fate that
smiled on Blair when he landed Miss Barile as his teacher, suddenly withdrew her
favor when Mrs. Freeman, the Assistant Vice Principle, a brusque, demanding
woman walked up to Theresa and demanded that she attend to a crisis in the front
office involving one hundred sheets of paper and a ditto machine, primed and
ready for action.
“I’m taking this little boy over to his bus before it leaves,”
protested Theresa, still holding onto Blair’s hand. Buses were already beginning to pull away from the loading
dock.
“I’ll take him,” Mrs. Freeman replied in a voice that brokered no
argument. “What’s the number?”
“One twenty five,” yelled Theresa over the noise of the departing
buses.
Mrs. Freeman, who was hard of hearing but far too proud to admit a
weakness, nodded her head, took Blair by the hand and walked off
- straight towards bus
one twenty nine.
******
The bus driver behind the wheel of bus 129, one Richie “Skeeter”
Macky was a corpulent man with
long-greasy hair and a bad attitude.
Skeeter sneered as he watched a woman run up along side his bus,
practically dragging a child behind her. He
opened the door and gave a short jerk of his thumb over his shoulder, impatient
for his last passenger to board so that he could be on his way. This bus driver had places to go and people to see just as
soon as he dropped of the last brat on his route.
A man with no friends, Skeeter’s few associates would have told anyone
who asked that he was a man born on the short end of the stick when it came to
having any innate sense of unselfishness,
discipline, or responsibility. He liked his money tight and his whores loose, and having
also found himself on the short end of that same stick when it came to looks as
well as hygiene, he perpetually had slim pickings when it came to female
companionship. Skeeter frequently
resorted to paying for his female companionship and this week, he was on a lucky
streak. Not only had his bet come
through at the track on Saturday, but the voluptuous Miss Love Divine, a
higher-class prostitute who he’d been lusting after for weeks now, was
suddenly available to him. Skeeter
Macky knew he needed this job, it
was only the first day of school after all, but as far as he was concerned, what
he needed even more was some sexual recreation with Miss Divine. At exactly
4:00PM, come hell or high water, the greasy-haired man with the broken yellow
teeth intended to get horizontal with Miss Love Divine.
*******
Blair hugged his lunchbox to his chest and slowly made his way towards
the back of the bus where the only available open seats were located.
To him, it seemed as though a thousand pair of eyes where staring at him
like a bug under his “Uncle” David’s microscope back at the commune.
His heart was still beating fast with the stress of having been lost and
nearly left behind as he nervously made his way down the gauntlet of bigger boys
and girls. At last, the weary child
found a seat in the very back and curled up in it.
Skeeter accelerated the bus quickly and drove off towards his first stop
- three miles in the opposite direction from bus 125’s route. As Skeeter drove on, Blair’s eyes grew heavy and soon, the
motion of the bus lulled him to sleep.
*******
Naomi was ridiculously early - she knew that but the knowledge hadn’t
stopped her from going anyway. Blair’s
bus wasn’t due back until 3:30PM, but Naomi was at the pick-up point at
3:00PM. She had driven just about
everyone around her at the commune crazy when around
two o’clock she started constantly requesting the time until one of her
friends handed over her watch to Naomi in a huff of indulgent exasperation.
Finally, when she could stand it no more, Naomi grabbed a light sweater
and headed out the door and down the road. She was smiling as she walked along,
her mind entertained visions of Blair leaping off the school bus, laughing with
glee and chattering to her about his first day in kindergarten all the way back
to the commune. Though the young
mother had enjoyed her hours of free time, she had still missed her baby boy and
the time spent in his company. At
last, Naomi reached the pick-up point and began her wait for Blair’s bus.
The anticipation was killing Naomi, it felt like forever to her before
the time on the borrowed watch showed 3:30PM, the appointed hour for the bus’s
arrival. Five minutes turned
into ten, and ten minutes slowly turned into twenty.
The time drew nearer to 4:00PM and then well past that hour.
The eyes that looked with eager anticipation down the road were not
rewarded for their diligence. The
joyful excitement in Naomi’s heart waned and faded out altogether only to be
replaced by a growing feeling of unease. Anxiety
gnawed at her nerves and she couldn’t shake off the feeling that
something was terribly wrong. Where was the bus? Where
was Blair? More minutes passed by
until Naomi couldn’t take it anymore. She
knew with a mother’s instinct that something was wrong, so she turned and ran
with all the speed she could muster back down to the commune. She was going to
find her son and bring him home!
******
“C’mon, c’mon kid, get your
ass off the bus.” Skeeter
fumed and fidgeted with impatience. His
afternoon bus run was taking longer than anticipated and cutting into his time
with Miss Divine. As the last child
exited the bus, Skeeter breathed a sigh of relief.
The indolent bus driver figured that if he floored it, he may just make
it to the bus depot in under ten minutes. Yeah,
he’d be late, but there would still be enough time on the clock to make it
worth his while. Skeeter gunned the accelerator and the bus speed up along the
county road, now a good 15 miles away from Blair’s bus stop.
In
his haste to get to the bus depot, Skeeter failed to see one small sneaker-clad
foot sticking out from the back seat into the aisle, that is until he rounded
the corner and the sneaker-clad foot belonging to the formally sleeping Blair
Sandburg, suddenly moved and the child sat up rubbing his eyes in bewilderment.
Skeeter was shocked and slammed on the brakes.
The last thing he expected to see was a little boy sitting in the back of
his bus. The shock quickly wore off
only to be replaced by anger from Skeeter’s hair-trigger temper.
“What the hell are you doing
on my bus, boy?” Skeeter roared furiously, instantly frightening Blair so that
he looked around wildly in terror. Blair
was speechless, his mind confused and still clouded by sleep. Where were the
other children? Why was he in this strange place? Why was this man angry at him?
He’s a grown-up, grown-ups from the school were supposed to take care
of him, his mother had told him that.
Skeeter pulled the bus over and forced his considerable bulk down the
narrow aisle.
“I want to go home,” Blair finally answered softly, his frightened
eyes turning to liquid pools of blue at the sight of the angry wall of flesh
approaching him.
“Where do you live, boy?” Skeeter asked impatiently.
“Why didn’t you get off at your stop?”
Blair processed the first question as best he could.
Though scared, he knew his address. Naomi had coached him repeatedly
until Blair was able to say it himself. “318
North Glen Annie Road,” Blair managed to say as he reached into his jeans
pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“My mommy wrote it here,” Blair added as he shyly held out the piece
of paper where Naomi had carefully written out the bus information for the
school. Skeeter snatched the paper
from Blair’s hand and with squinty eyes, began reading the note.
“That’s all the way ‘cross town,” Skeeter muttered to himself
while running a hand through greasy, stringy hair.
He read the note again as if willing the words to read, “bus depot.”
He was running out of time, time with Miss Divine he had bought and paid for
with his hard-earned track winnings. ‘Uh
huh, no way! No way am I gonna take this brat all the way over there.
He got on the wrong bus, so he’s not my responsibility!”
Having reasoned the problem out using Skeeter logic, the man prepared to
take action on his conclusion. Without
saying a word he beckoned the small boy to follow him back down the aisle to the
front of the bus. He pulled on the
handle and opened the bus door. Without
a thought to this lost child’s safety, Skeeter said,
“Your stop is here.” Blair
looked down past the steep steps into a foreign landscape.
Fear seized the child completely. He
didn’t know this place, and his mother wasn’t there to greet him. Blair remained frozen in his place, his pleading eyes looking
up at the impatient man holding the door open.
Looking into the terrified face of the kindergartener moved Skeeter’s
conscience into attempting to make a rare appearance. It failed as he hardened his heart against it and brusquely
said, “Go on, git!”
Blair slowly negotiated the steps down to the ground.
He turned and looked one last time in mute appeal to Skeeter.
Skeeter merely slammed the door shut and speed off in a cloud of dust and
smoke leaving the lost, frightened little boy sobbing on the side of the road.
******
“What do you mean all of the buses have come back?” Naomi Sandburg
practically shrieked into the phone.
The young mother’s nerves were shot and no amount of deep cleansing
breaths were helping to calm her anxiety. There was no doubt in her mind that
Blair was in trouble and that he needed her. She had rushed back to the commune,
breathless and begging for a ride out to the nearest pay phone since there
wasn’t one at the commune. The
odd-ball collection of men and women who lived there had all rallied around her,
and as a result, some of Naomi’s
friends waited at the commune, others cruised the country roads, while still
others waited at the bus stop. As
for Naomi, she had spent the last hour at a pay phone in town going around in
frustrated circles as she gave a detailed description of Blair to a series of
low-level school staff members who knew nothing. The last staff member was
sympathetic and had recommended Naomi call the bus transportation headquarters. Naomi had promptly dialed the number and then had been put on
hold for over seven minutes. Once
she did get to talk to someone, that person then handed the phone off to another
individual forcing an increasingly frantic Naomi to explain the problem all over
again. “I’m telling you, my son’s bus, bus number 125 never came to the stop!” Naomi angrily shouted.
“WHERE is my son?” she demanded.
“Miss Sandburg,” the Assistant Transportation Director said
soothingly, “let me try and contact 125’s driver at home and find out why he
didn’t make the stop and if your son was on his bus.”
After verifying the pay phone number where Naomi was, the official
disconnected the call leaving Naomi to pace anxiously back and fort in the
company of her friend, Babs.
Babs tried in vain to console the inconsolable. Naomi was convinced she
had made the biggest mistake in her life by letting Blair go to kindergarten
when all she’d really wanted to do was keep him at home with her.
Babs’ heart broke looking at how distraught the normally unflappable
Naomi Sandburg was. Her young face
was creased with worry, the normally bright eyes overtaken by shadows of fear.
After what seemed an interminable time, the payphone suddenly rang with
jarring clarity making both women jump nervously. “Hello,” Naomi almost yelled into the phone.
“This is Mr. Alexander from Transportation again.”
“Yes.” Naomi replied tersely.
“I have some news to report about your son. Right after I got off the phone with you,
I received a call from the Assistant Vice Principle.
She overheard someone on staff
asking about Blair and she recognized him from the description you
provided. Seems like she remembers putting Blair on bus number 129.”
Panic and confusion warred within Naomi. “Bus 129? But
you said all the buses have come back? Just
where does that bus go, Mr. Alexander? Where
is Blair!” Naomi ended, nearly hysterical.
“Miss Sandburg, we tried calling the driver of bus 129, but it seems
as though he’s not at home, is it possible your son decided to go home with a
friend instead of home?” Mr. Alexander asked, fervently hoping for an
affirmative answer.
“He doesn’t know any one else…and no, he wouldn’t do that even
if he did!” Naomi snapped.
“Then I’m afraid that is has now become a matter for the police to
handle. I’m going to call them
for you, alright?”
Naomi was wary of the police and those she thought might ask too many
questions about a young single mother raising her son in a rather unconventional
manner. Still, she quickly agreed.
Despite her negative perceptions of the police, she was more than willing to use
police resources if it meant finding her child.
Naomi took a deep breath to gather her wits.
It would be getting dark soon and the temperature was all ready acquiring
a bit of a chill. “Mr. Alexander, I’m at a pay phone right now, would it be
okay if my friend and I went over to your office to wait for a while?”
“Sure, that’d be fine Miss Sandburg.” Mr. Alexander carefully
relayed the directions to the transportation office and then hung up and dialed
the police. The phone was answered
immediately and after identifying himself to the officer on the other end, he
let out a troubled sigh before speaking further. “I’d like to report a
missing child…..”
******
Blair stood there, with tears streaking down his face as he watched the
bus drive off, leaving him alone by the side of the road.
It was a barren stretch of gravel-lined county road with wild, thorny
vegetation fighting and winning the battle for survival.
Blair was scared. He
didn’t know what to do on this road where there were no houses in sight and he
didn’t know where he was. Finally,
the little figure picked a direction and began walking down the lonely road.
Thirty minutes later an exhausted Blair was still moving down the road though he
was now stumbling along almost blindly. His eyes no longer saw the road his feet
trod upon. His jeans were torn and
his hands scraped and raw from where he had fallen in the gravel, courtesy of a
speeding, drunk driver. The
speeding car took the curve dangerously close to the edge, sending up a choking
spray of dirt and gravel. Blair had
narrowly missed being hit by the car whose driver was so drunk he never saw the
small child he almost hit, much less the thing that looked remarkably like a big
black cat suddenly leaping across the road.
******
Forty-two year old Conseula Maria Guzman was tired after a long day of
work at the local diner. While most
people considered their day finished at that time, Conseula’s hardest work was
still ahead. She had to prepare
food for her family of six, help the children with homework, clean house, and
perform bedtime rituals. That would
all happen assuming her old clunker of a car would last another day.
Because of the poor condition of her car, Conseula often drove below the
speed limit and this evening was no exception.
She was halfway home when she saw something up ahead that immediately
registered in her mind as something wrong, something out of place. It was the
figure of a little boy, stumbling along the road by himself.
She sped until she was even with the boy.
The woman slammed on the brakes the minute her eyes took in the sight of
the crying child with the torn clothes and dried blood on his hands and knees.
“Madre de Dios!”
Conseula moved her car to the side of the road, parked and then ran
towards Blair who had kept on moving, exhaustion making him oblivious to her
presence. “Hijo, ádonde
va? Conseula asked gently when she had obtained Blair’s attention.
Blair didn‘t understand Spanish
so he only shook his head, tears still streaming down his face.
“Quién es?” Conseula tried again.
‘Inglés, Inglés!’
Conseula thumped her forehead and fished around for the right words. “Your name son - what
is?” Conseula asked in the best English she knew.
“Blair,” the frightened child managed to say.
“You are lost, si?”
Blair could only nod his head as the sobs began again.
This time, Conseula held out her hand and with the other, gently pulled
the crying child to her side. “You come with me. I help you.” Blair accepted
the comforting arm about his shoulder and he clung to her, overcome with relief.
This woman with the funny accent would help him find his mother and
return him home!
******
Back at the transportation office, Naomi fidgeted nervously while Babs
sat watching Mr. Alexander surreptitiously.
Mr. Alexander was a good looking, single man with a compassionate heart.
After getting past the awkwardness and tension surrounding the
circumstances of the initial introduction, Mr. Alexander had devoted himself to
supporting the young mother through her terrible ordeal in a most solicitous
manner. He was truly sorry for what
had happened and he was ready to assume responsibility for whatever mix-up had
occurred, but even beyond the stress of the situation, Naomi herself was having
an effect on him. As distraught and stressed-out as she appeared, Naomi was an
extremely attractive young woman who brought out the need to be a chivalrous
knight in most men. Babs took it
upon herself to make a mental note on Naomi’s behalf since she quite clearly
was oblivious to Mr. Alexander’s appeal.
All three startled when the phone rang at 5:45PM.
Mr. Alexander was closer to the phone and picked it up first.
Naomi and Babs watched him with anxious eyes.
Naomi’s world narrowed down to the vision of Mr. Alexander’s head
which was bowed down and slightly away from her, shielding the expression on his
face away from her perceptive eyes.
The call ended, the receiver was placed back into the cradle.
The head that rose came up adorned with a huge smile that lit up the
room. “He’s safe!” boomed out
Mr. Alexander jubilantly. “A
woman found your son walking by the side of the road and she brought him
straight to the police station!”
Naomi’s knees started to buckle as the words pierced straight through
her heart. Babs was at her side,
instantly steadying her before they each fell into each other’s arms tearfully
hugging. “Is he alright?” Naomi
demanded.
“The officer said he was a little scraped up, tired and scared of
course, but that he’s gonna be just fine,” Mr. Alexander hurried to reassure
Naomi.
“Let’s go get Blair,” Babs gently said while detangling herself
from the fierce embrace.
“Wait just a second, Babs,” Naomi replied as she turned towards Mr.
Alexander while brushing the tears from her face. “I just want to thank you for all of your help, Mr.
Alexander.”
“Don, my first name is Don and I was happy to be of help.
I’m just so sorry for what you and your little boy have been
through,” he offered yet another sincere apology.
Naomi graced him with a small, weary smile before rushing out the door
and into the waiting car.
******
Naomi couldn’t get to the front desk fast enough.
Her words to the Desk Sergeant
came out in a jumbled rush as she identified herself and asked to be
taken to her son. The officer gave
her an understanding smile and indicated with directions and a wave of her arm
that Blair was situated safely in the domestic relations bullpen. As Naomi drew
near to the room, she half expected to hear Blair crying. She was amazed however to hear the sound of laughter -
Blair’s laughter coming from the room. Naomi
burst into the room and drank in the sight of Blair, surrounded by one female
and two male officers who were busy entertaining Blair with makeshift sock
puppets. He had a blanket wrapped
around his shoulders. Both hands had gauze pads tapped on the palms and she
could see band-aides on both knees through the rips in the jeans.
The young mother stood for a minute as if permanently rooted to the spot.
“Sweetie,” she breathed before moving forward.
Something stirred within Blair and he knew before looking that his
mother was there, that she had come for him at last. “Mommy!” Blair cried
ecstatically as he scrambled off of the officer’s lap and took a flying leap
into Naomi’s arms. Where moments before Blair had been laughing, he was now
crying great tears of relief and the release of stress.
His small arms were like vices around Naomi’s neck, but she didn’t
complain. The only thing in the
world that mattered at that moment was that Blair had been found and was safe in
her arms. Naomi reveled in the
reality of that truth as her tears mingled with Blair’s while she crooned to
him and rocked him steadily.
“Miss Sandburg?” One of
the uniformed officers approached her, a report in one hand.
“Blair told us what happened. Between
what he said and what we learned from Mrs. Freeman, one of the principles from
your son’s school, Blair was mistakenly put on the wrong bus.
Apparently, the bus driver put your son out on the road and left him to
fend for himself. A good
Samaritan saw your son walking and brought him here.
We have an APB out for Mr. Richard Macky, the driver for bus 129. When
apprehended, he’ll be arrested on felony child endangerment charges.
Naomi was shocked to the core. “Why?
Why would he do such a reckless, cruel thing?” Naomi couldn’t wrap
her mind around the idea that someone from the school system had deliberately
abandoned her child on the side of the road.
“We won’t know that until we talk to him Miss Sandburg, but rest
assured, we will get an answer out of
him,” the officer grimly promised.
“Whatever it takes,” Naomi replied, uncharacteristically cold and
predatory. Naomi mentally
switched gears, “Where is this person who found Blair?” she inquired
curiously.
“Ah, that would be a lady named Mrs. Guzman. Poor lady barely speaks English.
I asked her to stay, but she indicated that she had to get home and see
to her own children.”
“I’m so grateful to her,” Naomi murmured, suddenly drained.
Blair had fallen asleep in her arms and her back was starting to ache
from the strain of holding him. “Thank
you all so much for looking out for my son.
May I take him home now?” With
an affirmative nod, the officers said their good-byes to the sleeping child and
wished Naomi well.
That night Blair lay soundly sleeping in Naomi’s bed.
The full moon shone brightly and sent a soft illuminating beam through
the window, cutting a path across the bed and the sleeping child.
Naomi was up and about moving restlessly, wrestling with her thoughts. Tomorrow was Tuesday, a school day. What was she going to do about Blair? How could she bear to put him back on the bus after what
happened? Would Blair be too afraid to go?
She had no answers for those questions, but the stillness of night
gradually soothed Naomi and the silent moon kept watch with her.
******
The next morning came all too soon for Naomi. She was still half asleep
when she noticed Blair was up and sitting on the edge of the bed.
Naomi instantly awakened, alert as the events of the previous day came
flooding back. “Hi sweetie, how
are you? Did you sleep ok?” she
asked as she scrutinized her son. Despite the gauze on his hands and the band-aides on his
knees, he looked none the worse for wear. He
appeared relaxed and well rested.
“Good,” Blair replied smiling shyly. The big blue eyes were bright
The smile wavered though a bit with his next question, “Do I have to go
to school today?”
Naomi thought a moment before she answered. She knew that Blair had had a horrible experience, but giving
in to her desire to keep him at home would only make it harder for him and for
her to get back in the swing of things. “Do
you want to go back?” she finally asked him.
“My teacher needs my help to take care of the animals,” Blair
replied solemnly. “I wanna tell her about the big cat.”
“What big cat, honey?” Naomi asked curiously.
“The one that knocked me off the road when a really fast car was
almost gonna hit me,” he said matter-of-factly.”
Naomi tried not to look at her son in disbelief.
If Blair had imagined that a big cat had saved his life and he wanted to
go to school and tell his teacher about it, who was she to discourage him?
She couldn’t, wouldn’t do that, so instead, Naomi smiled indulgently
and prepared to get Blair ready for school.
******
The scene looked much as it had the day before.
Mother and son walked hand in hand through the row of weeping willows out
to where the boundary line of the communal lands met the county road. There
wasn’t much said between the two, each content with their own thoughts as they
waited for the bus.
The moment of truth arrived when the bus arrived right on time.
Naomi would have her answer as to whether or not Blair was ready to get
on the bus and go back to school.
Blair looked at the open door of the bus. His blue eyes were wide and
his face paled slightly at the sight, but Blair made no other outward sign that
he was distressed. A strange calm had settled over him when out of the corner of
his eye he spied the shadow of the
big black cat. The same large cat
had pushed him out of the way of the drunk’s speeding car the night before.
Blair knew instinctively that he and he alone could see the animal.
He looked at the bus and back again at the specter and suddenly he knew
he was going to be okay. He
squeezed Naomi’s hand once more tightly and then he let go and climbed up into
the bus without a backward glance.
Naomi
opened her eyes and looked around feeling somewhat embarrassed to find herself
all alone on the sidewalk. The parents had all gone their separate ways, the
buses having long departed with
their precious cargo of children. The little kindergarten boy whom Naomi loved
above all others, and who had once boarded a similar bus, had also long since
departed. But in his place had come
a beautiful, strong man of thirty years; a man of courage and conviction. Her
son had made Naomi proud the day he willingly boarded the bus for the second
time, and he continued to make her proud every day of his life, through the many
highs and lows since then. Naomi
resumed her walk and as she did, she smiled and whispered aloud, “Thank you
Blair for showing me that sometimes..,just sometimes, something awful like the
kindergarten blues can be the prelude to a lifetime of silver and gold.”
Finis
Note: this story was inspired in part by this newspaper article: According
to the South Florida Sun-Sentinel story, ''North Point kindergartner forced on
wrong school bus'' it was the second time the transportation provider had lost
track of a child since schools began in that area earlier this summer:
Earlier that month [August], ''a Davenport first-grader was stranded when
she boarded the wrong bus and the bus driver insisted she get off on an
unfamiliar road miles from her neighborhood. After wandering the streets in
tears, the child was picked up by a motorist who arranged for her safe return
home.''
Spanish
words and phrases:
Madre
de Dios
- Mother of God
Hijo,
ádonde va? -
Where are you going, son?
Quién
es? -
Who are you?
Ingles
- English